Amor Omnia Vincit
by kayleespade
Summary: AU with Powers Remy is a Celtic chief taken prisoner by the Romans Rogue is the daughter of a wealthy patrician. Romy...eventually Kiotr, Johnda
1. Prologue

A/N: This is a bit long for an author's note, but I feel I should explain the alternate reality of this story before you begin.

This story takes place during the beginnings of the Roman Empire between 77 and 79 AD. Mutants exist and the most powerful ones are even worshipped as demi-gods. Younger mutants and those with weaker powers are accepted and given places of honor in Roman society. But not all mutants are created alike in the Roman mind. Barbarian mutants are feared and forced into servitude whenever possible.

This story begins in northern France. Although the Romans and the Celts were enemies until Rome completely conquered the regions, I have not stuck to the traditional dating of these events. In reality, the Celts were conquered before 77AD, but due to later events in this story I needed to alter the dates.

I'm going to keep the character names and some of the accents. Many accents would have been common in ancient Rome, especially the Celtic and Germanic accents. Although French is very different from the ancient Celtic tongue, Remy will still use many French terms but will also have a few authentic Celtic ones. Otherwise, I will try and keep the Roman culture and daily life the same. Any exceptions, I'll note for you in later chapters.

As a general rule, the Roman characters are speaking Latin, which is why Remy doesn't understand them in this chapter. Starting with the next chapter, he will have learned Latin and be able to follow conversations. As always, foreign words are italicized. Feel free and ask me any questions you have about this universe. And yes, they do have their typical powers.

* * *

AMOR OMNIA VINCIT

By: Kayleespade

Prologue

Gaul...77A.D.

Deep among the alder trees and peat bogs of northern France, a tribal town sat atop a gentle rise fortified by a timber wall. Here, in the outer boundaries of the known world, a man faced the most difficult decision of his young life. Appointed chieftain after the death of his father due to his unique gifts, the protection and well-being of his people rested solely on his shoulders and they were now faced with a threat beyond imagination.

The heat from the central fire radiated through the roundhouse, keeping the winter chill at bay, but no one noticed the temperature. Remy LeBeau sat on the elevated platform next to his wife, Belladonna, trying to focus on the problem at hand, but the din escalated drowning out his thoughts. Rubbing the bridge of his nose and sighing, he felt the weight of the situation pressing down.

"We need t' face dem! We can't jus' sit here and let our families starve!" A voice rang out above the others.

Another voice shouted out. "It's been days, now. I agree wit' Etienne. We need t' take action!"

Belladonna reached out to her husband and gently squeezed his hand in her own. Looking over at her understanding and sympathetic, blue eyes, Remy took strength and stood. "Quiet! I agree."

Stepping down from the platform, Remy scanned the room and addressed the men. "But calm down, and follow me."

His long strides carried him across the smoke filled room, and out into the cool winter air. The men silently followed, as Remy ascended the ramp up the fortification wall to look out over the flat plain below. Turning back to his men, he pulled his father's sword. "Look out over dese walls, and consider what y' ask."

An artificial thunder rolled across the plain created by the footfalls of the army below. Smoke billowed from the burning fields and outlining houses, as over five thousand armored men prepared for the coming confrontation by building walls and ditches. The defenders would not escape. Rome never stopped fighting until her enemies were utterly destroyed. They left nothing in their wake.

"Are y' still ready t' fight wit' me?"

The silence stretched over the warriors.

"We have watched as dese invaders have taken village after village, destroyin' everything dey touch. Jean-Luc fought for years protectin' dese lands and we will not give 'em up easily. Dis ends tomorrow, dat I swear. But understand what we face." Remy paused and looked back over the plain below. "Will y' fight?"

The eldest warriors moved forward and stood beside their young chief. "De wells have dried up and de water dat's left has been poisoned. We'll fight and be proud t' stand beside y'. We can't let our families die like dis. We'll follow y' t' death if we must, _taranis_...an honorable death is better dan a lifetime of shame!"

The men let loose a cry and rallied together.

Remy caught sight of Bella as she stepped out of the roundhouse, pulling her cloak tight around her body, the cold wind blowing her blonde hair about her face. He took a deep breath and turned back to his men. _Thunderer_..._I wish I had their confidence in me._ "Go t' your families and enjoy dis night. We'll fight at dawn." _Epona, protect us._

That night, Bella watched as her husband closed himself off from the world. She alone understood his pain and doubt. The men called him _taranis, _'thunderer', but few knew his other power. The one that hurt him now.

"Remy?" She stood behind him and gently rubbed his muscular shoulders.

"I can feel deir fear, _chèr_. How can I protect 'em from dis?" Remy turned in his chair and captured her face between the palms of his hands. Stroking her cheek with his finger, he whispered, "How can I protect y'?"

Dipping her head down, Bella caressed his lips with hers and then pulled him into an embrace. "Shhh...De men believe in y'." She ran her fingers through his long auburn hair. "And I believe in y'. De gods gifted y' wit' powers, _amour_, f'r a reason. Jus' block out de fear and concentrate on what I'm feelin'...right now."

Remy reached out with his empathy and felt a wave of emotion. Faith. Devotion. Love.

Taking his hand in hers, she pulled him up and watched as the firelight cut across his handsome features. The uncertainty she saw behind those exotic black eyes haunted her. "Let's not waste dis night talkin' about what might happen. C'mere."

"_Chèr_..."

She placed her fingers over his warm lips to stifle his protest. "Please...let me help y' forget f'r jus' tonight."

When dawn broke over the mist covered hills and valleys, Remy stood before the gates of the town surrounded by the warriors, men and women alike, dressed in his chieftain's garb. His long auburn hair hung loose around his shoulders and his crafted, gold torque, a symbol of his status, was clasped firmly around his neck. He wore the green plaid cloak of his family and his father's sword hung from the leather scabbard at his side. Had this been summer, he and his men would have charged into battle in the tradition of their ancestors...naked. But the frigid winter air demanded tunics and trousers.

An elder man blew on a carnyx, and drew the attention of the people to their chieftain and his wife.

"Remember," Remy shouted, "dese men attacked our lands, killed y'r neighbors...our fathers. Remember, an honorable death is better dan a lifetime of shame!" The carnyx rang out three times. Belladonna, who stood next to her husband and chief, shouted out in her loud voice, "Are y' ready for war?"

"Aye," the men and women replied, "we're ready!"

Again Bella asked them, and for a third time. Three times the answer came back. "Aye, we're ready f'r war!" The carnyx sounded again and the gates opened. A raven flew overhead, a portent of death.

* * *

Victor Creed was up and about before dawn. All night long, the Roman sentries had kept watch and they were certain the battle would come today. The night had been quiet except for the distant shouts from the barbarians' camp.

Creed's slaves had woken him early, and he dressed quickly, swallowed a Roman breakfast- a drink of water- and his bodyguards helped him put on his armor. Outside his tent, there was a flash and a glitter as the soldiers took the covers off their armor and hurried into ranks.

The whole army stood in a great half-circle around the camp altar. Aquiliferi and other standard-bearers brought the standards close to the altar. The trumpets rang out in a special salute to their general as he came forward to sacrifice to Jupiter.

Victor poured oil and perfume on the sacred fire. Priests dragged a white ox forward, cut its throat and opened the body to inspect the inside. Heart, liver and guts were in the right places. The animal was healthy. The Romans would have the gods on their side in the battle. Victor smiled quietly; he no longer believed in such things, but his men did. A great cheer went up when they knew the omens were good and the army marched out to battle.

Victor was a general, a mutant. He had lived through countless battles over several centuries, and they all ended with similar results. Death, destruction, and pain. Immediately ahead, he spotted the enemy. _Barbarians_. Figures could be seen dancing and shouting, while women were screaming and waving lighted torches. Others came nearer cursing the Romans and putting spells on them. Some soldiers were frightened because they believed in magic, but their discipline and fear of their general held them firm.

Amongst the crowd, Victor spotted the chief. He was a handsome boy, proud and determined. And for a moment, he felt his pulse quicken. So it begins. Nothing excited him more than war and his feral bloodlust jumped to life. He would force the boy into submission, raze the town, and satisfy his inner animal.

Standing before such a sea of men, Remy felt the tremor of his men's fear ripple through him. Slamming up his shields, he turned to his men. "Don't let fear rule y' this day! For our fathers!" And he charged forward.

There was a furious fight, and for a moment the Celts swept over the Roman auxiliaries like a sea-wave rolling over a beach. Remy led the way, charging the Roman weapons, turning them against their makers. He fought by his wife, charging her arrows as she shot into the enemy ranks, blowing the armor from their bodies.

Even so the auxiliaries slowed the barbarians down. Victor ordered Syrian archers and slingers to fire as fast as they could at the savages and then retire behind the legion to reform. The Celts continued to push on, passing many of their fallen comrades and running toward the waiting legionaries. The Romans stood quite still, javelins ready in their right hands. A trumpet sounded. There was only thirty yards between the Celts and the short, stocky Romans. Every arm raised, javelins ready for throwing. The carroballistae men stood waiting, one man crouched over the firing lever of his weapon. Again the trumpet. Three thousand javelins and a hail of carroballista arrows blacked out the sky. Hundreds of Celts fell screaming.

A flash of metal as the legionaries drew their swords. The legion rushed forward perfectly in line. As the lines met the legion roared out its battle cry, "Jupiter! Jupiter!" Armored Romans began cutting and stabbing at the packed ranks of their enemies. On both sides men went down, trampled in the rush.

Victor forced his way through the mass of bodies, working his way toward the boy-chief. _Another mutant…good, a challenge!_ Lunging from his horse with a feral growl, he tackled the Celt to the ground.

Remy felt the hit from behind. Twisting away from his attacker, he managed to escape from his grasp. The man was obviously one of their leaders, heavily armored and decorated. He was also gifted…or cursed by the gods. Large claws extended from his fingertips, and his amber eyes flashed with a sickening enjoyment, a lust for killing.

The two leaders attacked each other with a ferocity unseen before. To those around, it appeared to be a battle of titans. The young Celtic chief moved with an unearthly speed and accuracy, but the Roman general kept attacking. Each blow Remy landed seemed only to enhance the general's attack and his wounds healed before his eyes. _How can y' beat a man who can't be hurt?_

Bella paused in her attack, watching her husband fend off the Roman feral. While her attention was captured by the private battle before her eyes, she was struck by an arrow. It pierced her shoulder and the force of the blow knocked her off her feet.

Remy saw his wife fall.

Victor saw his moment of opportunity. Taking the hilt of his sword, he hit the boy on the back of his head. As darkness engulfed him, Remy heard Bella shout out his name. Then there was nothing but a void.

* * *

Remy was chained, pulled behind Victor's horse and forced to walk on foot back to the city _they_ called home. He would never forget the horrors he saw back in his homeland after their defeat. And they called _him_ a barbarian. He would never forgive himself for his failure and weakness. Never.

Victor looked over his shoulder at the defeated chief, his trophy. Pulling on the rope, he watched as Remy stumbled and nearly fell from exhaustion. "Don't die on me, boy. Y'll make a nice addition to my triumph."

Remy glared up at his captor. Although he didn't understand the language, he knew he didn't like the tone of the man above him. He was a monster. Rubbing the metal bracelet on his wrist, he tried to charge the object but nothing happened.

"Y' can't use yer powers, kid. That bracelet nullifies 'em." Creed explained, but noticed the confused look on the boy's face. "Y' don't understand a word I'm tellin' y', do y'? Doesn't matter. We'll take care of that soon enough."

* * *

Rome (4 weeks later)…

"Come along, dears. We can watch from the steps of the Temple of Roma."

Anna followed closely behind her father and brother, taking a seat on one of the marble steps. Her father had business to attend to on this day, but they had stopped near the Forum to watch the triumphal parade of General Creed. This was only her second visit to the capital city of Rome, having lived most of her life in the southern city of Stabiae.

"Rogue, move your head. I can't see!" Kurt complained from behind her. She glared back at her younger brother. Rogue…she had earned the nickname early in life due to her penchant for adventure. She hated being tied down to the laws and regulations of her father and society, unable to even leave her home without a male relative for an escort. What she would give for some freedom! But that would never be possible. She was already nineteen, long past the age for a husband. She suspected that was the very business that had brought them all to Rome today. The idea of tying herself to another man repulsed her, especially someone as formal and traditional as many of the men her father associated with. There had to be more to life.

The trumpets sounded and the sound reverberated throughout the city. Soldiers paraded down the street carrying the spoils of their wars in the north. Gold, silver, and fabrics overflowed from the carts and exotic animals were caged, proudly displayed by the legionaries. Rogue had never seen such a spectacle. Triumphs were few and far between and only occurred in Rome. This was her first.

Finally, General Creed came into view. He was standing in a gilded four-horse chariot, fully dressed in his decorated robes and medals. The sun glistened off the gold and created an almost divine aura around the man, but it wasn't the general that caught Rogue's eye. No, it was the man behind the chariot. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Standing tall despite the chains and shackles, he wore a green plaid cloak and leather trousers. His hair was long, much longer than any decent Roman would allow, and, given the attention he was receiving, it was clear he was a man of importance.

"Father, who is that man in chains?" Rogue asked.

Smiling down at his daughter, like one would a child asking an innocent question, he replied, "That man, my dear, was the chief of the northern Celts. General Creed truly is a marvel, finally bring the last of the northern resistance to their knees. Don't you agree?"

Rogue looked back to the general, but her attention was drawn to the other man behind him. "Why do they treat him like an animal? It's so inhumane."

Her father laughed. "Rogue, dear, that man is a barbarian…an animal. It only fits that he be treated like one. Now, enough talk about this. Let's enjoy the rest of the parade."

Rogue ignored her father and couldn't help but feel pity for the man. To lose one's freedom and be marched through a foreign city as some kind of spectacle…there couldn't be anything worse.

* * *

The cell was small and filthy, and the stench of death and decay permeated the walls. Rodents scurried about, looking for sustenance but filled themselves on the dried blood found on the floor. Remy, still chained, sat on the cold stones thinking over the events that led him to this place. He had always cursed his empathy, but now, without it, he felt so alone…empty, hallow.

He knew what his ancestors had meant by their creed, 'An honorable death is better than a lifetime full of shame.' He wished he had died on that battle field with his comrades. He should have joined them. His people were destroyed, his friends and Bella were dead. Now he was cursed to a lifetime of guilt and pain… a lifetime of shame.

Footfalls echoed through the dank prison, but stopped just outside his cell door. As the door opened, Remy rose to his feet to meet his latest tormentor, but he wasn't prepared for what emerged. Through the darkness of the cell, two shining red eyes met his.

"Now, my child, let us begin your training."

* * *

A/N: Please review and let me know what you think! For those of you waiting for the sequel of Savage Seas...it's coming very soon! I'll hopefully have the first chapter up next weekend.


	2. Stabiae

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I hope I answered most of your questions with the replies, but if not just let me know. I know Rogue is more innocent in this story, but it fits the role she been put into. She will grow into the confident and independent gal we all love!

AMOR OMNIA VINCIT

By: Kayleespade

**Chapter 1: Stabiae**

"Put him in with those prisoners from Germania!"

A guard was summoned and he cut the bonds that bound Remy's hands and tied a written tag to his right wrist; this described his qualifications. He was led out into a great courtyard and thrown into the largest holding pen. He found himself facing a crowd of about twenty dirty, tired, and worn looking people…men, women, and children. Most were blonde, and like himself, taller than the Roman captors.

The tallest one, a bear of a man with an unkempt beard and snarled long hair, approached and spoke to him: the rising intonation led him to think it was a question, but Remy didn't understand him. He repeated the question twice, and then tried other words; Remy responded in Latin, "Remy doesn't understand y', _mon ami_." He shrugged; he didn't understand Remy, either.

It was clear to them that Remy wasn't one of them, in spite of his northern European appearance; and so they shunned him. He found a place in the corner next to the wicker woven fence that separated this pen from a neighboring enclosure, and he knelt on the ground.

By late afternoon, the guard returned with a bucket. At first glance, it looked like slop, but it was dinner. They each were given coarse wheat porridge, a lumpy gray substance. It was bland, but warm and filling. Remy picked sand and pebbles out of his food as he chewed, trying to spare his teeth from damage. Ever since his capture two years ago, the days passed much the same way, but at least he was away from Essex now. The first year had been torture. The man was cruel and sadistic. He demanded complete obedience and perfection, and Remy was a stubborn student. Essex was the person all foreign mutant prisoners were sent to. He instructed them on proper behavior and submission as well as the Roman language, often employing the help of his 'assistant'…a leather whip with bronze tacks on the ends.

Two days later a new group of slaves arrived; many appeared to be Greek. They were more adequately dressed and better treated than the group Remy had been placed with; clearly, they were more valuable. They were placed in the neighboring pen after a systematic inspection and tagging process, which took place in the open courtyard.

Many of the new prisoners had 'special' skills…evident by the same collars they wore around their necks. Remy absent-mindedly fingered his own collar. Many could also read, write, sing, and dance. They would be far more valuable than the rest.

From the corner of the pen, Remy observed the new arrivals. A fight broke out over a dice game. The young man who won most of the tosses got into a quarrel with a much larger man. He cursed the younger man, accused him of playing with loaded dice, knocked him down, and kicked him several times. The angry loser gathered up all the coins that had been staked out on the game.

The injured Greek crawled away from his attacker and took shelter in the rear corner of the enclosure. He was only a few feet away from Remy, on the other side of the fence. He nursed his injuries and mumbled profanities, worried about a bleeding wound on his shin.

"_Mon ami," _Remy whispered.

The man lifted his head, came closer and peered at Remy through the gaps in the woven reed fence.

"Y' leg should be treated. Do y' have any cloth f'r a bandage?"

Although the man seemed to welcome the concern, there was a touch of disdain in his expression…a reaction to Remy's strange accent or eyes, he supposed.

Remy added. "If y' get wine and water, I can clean it. Dis is medicine." He pulled a leather pouch from his belt and poured some herbs into his hand.

The man went over to the fence and engaged the attention of a guard, who brought a jar of relatively clean water and cheap wine in return for a small bribe. It was, at least, cleaner than the slop jars provided for general use.

Remy reached through the gaps in the woven twig fence and the Greek moved closer so that Remy could attend to his leg. Remy washed his wound with wine, wiped it carefully with the cleanest part of his tunic, and applied some herbs. Then he bound the man's leg with a piece of cloth that was torn from the hem of his tunic.

"Thanks." He said, although Remy could hear the doubt in his voice. "I'm John."

"Remy."

"I've never heard an accent like yours," he said, looking Remy over. "Where are you from?"

Remy hung his head. "I t'ink your people call it Gaul…y're from Greece, _non?_"

John grinned in response. "Yeah, but it's been a long time since I've seen my home. You don't belong with that group, do you?"

"_Non,_" Remy shook his head. "Dey don't understand me. I have no home t' return t'."

John and Remy continued talking long into the evening. They learned much about each other and it had been a long time since Remy had a good conversation with anyone. He liked John. He was talkative and his eyes were always bright with mischief, although his mouth assumed a sardonic expression in repose.

The next day, John showed Remy his leg; it had begun to heal. That cheered him up considerably, and he began to coach Remy on how to obtain a good master.

"If you see someone who looks like they'll be a bad master, go to the back of the pen, or if that's impossible, look ignorant and unpleasant. Hunch over slightly, and stick out your chin…that will make you look obstinate…No, don't stick your chin out that far, that doesn't look natural…"

John heard the guards speak of a slave action that would be held at the next market day. This was not a good time to go on the market, John said. On market day the slaves would be put on the auction block, naked, in front of a large group of prospective owners. This would not give them the opportunity to appeal selectively to just the right owner. However, he learned from quizzing the guards that a few preferred customers would come to look at the before the auction.

Several potential buyers came through early in the morning; apparently they didn't suit John. With a few subtle alterations in his face and posture, he managed to look stupid and ill tempered…and a bit crazy. He was quickly passed by. Remy followed his instructions and was passed over, too.

Then a prospective buyer appeared who seemed to be up to John's standards. This man was portly and short; the fabric of his clothing suggested a household that was prosperous but not ostentatiously wealthy. He had a neatly trimmed beard that gave him a look of a philosopher. The vertical crease between his eyebrows created a permanently worried look; this, and the stiffness of his body movements, gave him an air of self-conscious seriousness and dignity. The shadow of a smile came and went on his face as he talked with John. John stood erect and made a direct eye contact. They talked in both Latin and Greek, and John demonstrated his writing skills in both languages.

There was a lengthy haggle between this man and the dealer concerning price. Paperwork was completed, and his new owner began to lead John away. Remy watched from his pen.

At the gateway to the courtyard, John took the man aside for a talk. John pointed in Remy's direction and began a persuasive appeal. They returned to the courtyard and approached Remy. John's new owner looked him over, but didn't seem impressed. John's voice was honeyed as he made his plea. Out of the sight of the Roman clerks, he broke of the part of Remy's tag that indicated he could play a musical instrument. If he didn't have any distinguishing abilities, the man could buy him much more cheaply.

John's arguments were effective, for within a short time more papers were signed and Remy was turned over to them.

They walked out of the compound and climbed into an ox-drawn wagon; this would take them to their new home. The wagon was loaded with sacks, barrels, and amphorae; apparently, their new master had also purchased supplies on this trip.

As they rumbled along the road, jerking and tossing in the cart, they headed south along a major road. Another slave drove the wagon. Remy was in back with John and the supplies, free to look about and study the changing landscape. The dominant feature was a mountain.

"What's de name of dat mountain?" Remy asked John.

"That's Vesuvius. We're headed for a town called Stabiae."

When they arrived at their master's estate, John and Remy got out of the wagon and walked along a hard packed dirt road that led up to the rear gate of a sprawling country villa surrounded by olive groves, vineyards, and vegetable gardens. Tall pointed poplars bordered the road that led up to the front gate, like rows of silent sentries. The house was a great walled compound with two enormous doorways; the red and white painted walls were topped with sloping roofs of terracotta tiles.

Approaching the rear entryway, an old doorman sat just inside. He slept in the peaceful afternoon warmth of the sun with his dog's head in his lap. John's footfalls startled him into attention. This was the watchman, although he didn't seem to take this responsibility too seriously. Remy tucked that bit of information in the back of his mind.

The elderly dog that had been asleep also came to life, and ambled up to Remy awkwardly as if his bones hurt. Remy offered the dog his hand, and it gave him a thorough going over.

Another slave met them at the door and introduced himself. "Hello, comrades. My name's Piotr. Let me escort you to your new quarters."

Piotr led John and Remy into the slave quarters at the rear of the house. They entered a plain courtyard with a shallow rectangular stone lined pool in the center; he pointed to a stone bench. They sat. The walls were rough and pitted, painted in some places, bare stone showing through in others. The courtyard wasn't paved but the earth was packed so hard from ceaseless wear of feet that it might almost have been solid rock. Dark doorways lined the courtyard. Judging from the smoke billowing from the largest doorway, this was the kitchen.

Two women came out from the kitchen to look over the new arrivals. Piotr introduced them.

"Wanda is the housekeeper. You will help her with cleaning. Katherine is the young mistress's maid and hairdresser."

Wanda was obviously the more dominant of the two. The pale softness of her face caught John's attention. Her hands showed years of menial work, and she wore a shapeless tunic belted at the waist. She gave John a once over and narrowed her eyes.

"No, I don't think so, Piotr. These two are going to work in the fields. Didn't they tell you? We don't need any extra hands in the house."

Katherine was smaller than Wanda. Her fine complexion was ivory with tones of olive, and her face was delicately modeled, and so perfect that it hardly seemed possible it could be real. Luminous hazel eyes dominated her face; dark brows dramatized her beauty. With an elegant finger, she adjusted a loose strand of her hair and smiled up at Piotr. Something in the tilt of her face suggested gentleness and at the same time a hint of sadness.

They talked for quite a while, learning about each other's background. John told the group about how he was captured while sailing across the Mediterranean to do trade in Crete. The ship had been completely unprepared for the Roman attack. Oddly, Piotr remembered Remy's arrival in Rome. He had been in the city when the young chief was paraded through the streets as a trophy.

Remy asked them about their own backgrounds. They seemed surprised that he should ask. Katherine, whom was called Kitty by the others, was 'verna', that is, a slave born in the household of her mistress. It was clear from her tone that she thought this was a great distinction.

"What kind of household is this?" John asked.

"A very fine family," Piotr informed them in a lofty manner. "This is one of the wealthiest families in Stabiae. The master is descended from a branch of the family of Marcus Tullius Cicero, who was a consul of Rome. The mistress, Anna, is very kind. They permit us to have money, to have a peculium. Some slaves in this family have been permitted to buy their freedom. You will be most fortunate if he decides to keep you here." Piotr looked sadly to Kitty. "But you are not permitted any relationships within the household."

So, they were on probation, it seemed.

Piotr led them to their rooms, but Remy didn't miss the subtle brush of hands as he passed Kitty. What a sad state of life…hidden and subservient.

* * *

Rogue sat in her dressing chamber later that evening, surrounded by a few olive oil lamps that cast puddles of liquid yellow light on the floor and walls. She turned when she heard the subtle squeak of the door behind her.

"Hi, Rogue," Kitty whispered as she entered the small room. She often addressed her mistress by her nickname when in private. They had been raised together and she felt like they were sisters in many ways.

"Hi, Kitty. Ah hear we have a few new additions. Have you met them?" Rogue asked, as Kitty walked up behind her and began brushing her hair.

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah…Piotr brought them by the kitchen earlier today. I think they're working in the stable tonight." She paused. "One's Greek but the other is from somewhere in the north."

Rogue turned and looked up at her friend. "Are they like us?"

Kitty nodded. "Yeah, they're wearing collars, but I didn't get the chance to ask them what they could do."

Rogue sighed. She hated the collars that her friends were forced to wear. Kitty's powers manifested around the same time as her own, but while she was encouraged to practice her gifts, Kitty was punished and collared. It wasn't right, but there was little she could do.

Kitty continued working on Rogue's hair until she noticed a familiar sly grin begin to appear on her friend's face. "What are you thinking now, Rogue?"

"Father's gone tonight, so let's have some fun." Rogue stood and took the brush from Kitty's hand. "Let's go for a ride."

Kitty shook her head and began to plea with her. "No, Rogue. Let's just stay inside tonight, please. If we get caught…"

Her argument fell on deaf ears as Rogue pulled her out of the room and toward the stable. Just as they reached the main doorway, Rogue smelled sulfur. "Kurt!"

Her brother stepped out from the shadows with a frown on his face. "Where do you think you're going?"

Rogue placed her hands on her hips and gave her brother the best pout she could muster. "Come on, you're not goin' to stop meh, are you?"

Kurt crumbled a little. "No, but I want to come with you…and don't drag Kitty along. You know what will happen to her if dad catches her outside the house with you."

Rogue released Kitty's hand and looked over at her friend apologetically. "Sorry, Kit. It just gets so boring in here."

"Don't worry about it. You know I love our little adventures, anyways." Kitty smiled at Kurt and retreated back to the kitchen with Wanda.

Kurt followed Rogue outside and back to the rear of the villa into the stables. Once inside, Rogue began gathering up a harness for her ebony horse, but stopped when she heard a noise coming from above. Looking up, she saw one of her cats crawling along a heavy wooden rafter…scared.

"Kurt, can you help meh get her down from there?" Rogue asked, pointing up at the small kitten.

Kurt rolled his eyes, but agreed. Taking his sister's hand, they disappeared only to reappear on the rafter. It was his gift.

Before Kurt could stop her, Rogue began crawling out onto the beam after her cat, but the heavy draping of her cloak caught on a nail head, and she lost her balance. She tried to grab onto the rafter, but couldn't get a strong hold. She fell.

Just when she was certain she was going to hit the hard dirt floor of the stable, her fall was softened by something under her. At first she thought Kurt had managed to catch her, but then she saw him staring wide-eyed at her from above. When she turned her head to the side, she came face to face with her savior.

Beautiful red and onyx eyes met her own. There was something mesmerizing in his gaze. Deep intelligence shone there along with a guarded look that kept his emotions well hidden. She had the impression that nothing escaped his attention. Ever.

Her heart stopped beating an instant before it began to pound furiously. Never in her life had she seen a man so handsome. Eyes so exotic they seemed to glow stared out from a chiseled face. For all his handsomeness, though, there was hardness to his features that told her a smile was all but alien to those lips.

Then reality returned and she recalled her position.

Remy had just managed to walk under the beam as the young woman lost her footing, but was completely unprepared for the hit of her fall. He managed to catch her, but fell in the process. Now, he was sprawled out on the dirt floor with the woman lying across his waist.

Remy tried his best to ignore the floral scent of her auburn hair. It had been years since the last time he was this close to a woman…not since Belladonna. That thought unsettled him. He looked at her feminine gloved hand resting innocently against his forearm. He lifted his gaze from her hand to those beautiful, dark green eyes of hers that reminded him of a perfect summer's meadow.

Kurt appeared next to the couple on the floor and the smell of sulfur that followed his arrival brought Rogue's senses back to her. Jumping to her feet, she straightened her tunic and cloak.

"Thank you."

Remy slowly stood and lowered his eyes. He could tell by their clothing, they were wealthy Roman citizens, and probably the children of his new master. "Y're welcome, _petite_."

Piotr walked into the stable and saw the small group and Kurt's glare toward the new slave. "Is something wrong?"

Rogue shook her head and hit her brother on his arm in reprimand when she noticed his sour look. "No, Piotr. Ah just fell out of the rafters and this man caught meh." She looked over to Remy and smiled. "Ah never got your name."

"It's Remy." He responded but didn't make eye contact.

Rogue swallowed hard as she stood close to him. So close to him she could hear his breathing, feel the warmth of it fall against her skin. Overwhelmed by the man's presence, it was all she could do not to lean in closer and inhale the raw, pleasant, untamed scent of leather and spice.

Never in her life had she felt this way. So breathless. So titillated.

So very alive and alert.

Was this what Emma meant when she described her scandalous encounters with men? This feeling?

"Nice to meet you, Remy. Ah'm Anna, but everyone calls meh Rogue… when mah dad's not around." Rogue stretched her hand out to him, but Kurt seized it, noticing his sister's unusual interest in this slave.

"Nice t' meet y', _maîtresse_ Anna." Remy replied as he was taught by Essex.

Rogue didn't have a chance to continue their conversation. Kurt pulled her along, past Piotr and out of the stable. "Sorry, Piotr, but I have to get my sister back inside."

Rogue glared at her brother and his rude behavior. Usually, he was as friendly as she was with their servants. Why would he be different with Remy?

"What's wrong with you!" Rogue shouted at Kurt once they were inside. "Ah was just bein' friendly."

"Yeah…you were being really friendly. If father would have caught you looking at that man the way you were, he would have been sent back to the auction house! What's wrong with _you_?"

Rogue huffed and stomped toward the stairs to her room. "Ah don't know what you're talkin' about."

Rogue spent a fretful night tossing and turning. Her body wasn't used to the new mattress her father had bought, and she couldn't quite adjust to the sounds and smells coming from the rear of the house. The slaves must be welcoming the new members.

And if that wasn't bad enough, what little sleep she managed was haunted by dreams of a darkly handsome, enigmatic man. A man both beguiling and off limits.

She'd never met anyone like Remy before, and she was at a loss as to her body's reactions to him. An aura of danger and strength clung to him, warning her that if he chose, he could be truly dangerous.

If he chose…

And his voice. By Jove…His accented voice caused shivers to run down her spine.

No…Kurt was right. She had to stop these thoughts of hers. It would only do them both harm in the long run. It was most likely only an interest in the out of the ordinary. Remy was new and foreign. He had seen parts of the world she had only dreamed of and his features were exotic. This infatuation would pass as she became accustomed to his presence.

When morning came, Rogue welcomed it and the release it gave her from those haunting thoughts. She dressed with Kitty's help in her red tunic and black cloak, then went to break her fast.

Rogue paused in the doorway to the courtyard. She heard a strange voice echoing through the colonnaded passage.

"Unfortunately, I've learned this household has a Roman cook," John informed Remy as they walked towards the kitchen.

John was Greek and even though they were conquered by the Romans, many Greeks still considered themselves superior to Romans in matters of taste and intellect. A Roman cook by implication, was a poor cook. Of course, since Remy was Gallic, both the Greek and Roman slaves looked down on his people as an ignorant northern barbarian.

Cnaeus, the cook, heard what John had said. Without a word, and with a considerable slamming of pots, he dished out bowls of bean soup and gave one to each, with pieces of coarse bread. His face softened a little when he handed Remy the bowl. "Hunger sweetens beans," he said. The momentary softness of his expression seemed out of place with the harshly scarred appearance of his face and arms. He must have been burned at one time.

Remy sat on a stone bench outside the kitchen door in the courtyard to eat his meal. Cnaeus and John followed and continued their bickering. Cnaeus offered them a cup of watered wine.

"Enjoy the wine, Remy. It's the nectar of the gods," John said, as he downed his in one long drink.

The wine was terrible.

"Greekling, do not annoy me further," Cnaeus said. This seemed to be the beginning of a feud. John was deliberately needling the cook.

"Tell me, Cnaeus. Do you sleep in the stable or it that stench naturally yours?" John asked. Cnaeus spat, growled, and retreated back to his kitchen. John grinned and wiggled both of his eyebrows, apparently pleased that he had won this round.

Rogue watched the two slaves from the shadows. She couldn't help her interest in Remy. Something in the back of her mind told her that she had seen him before…somewhere. Wanda and Kitty quickly exited the kitchen soon after Cnaeus stormed away.

"What did you say to him? He was absolutely livid!" Kitty asked, looking at John.

He only shrugged and continued eating his soup and the bread Cnaeus had left behind.

Wanda looked Remy over. "You need a bath; come here."

Remy raised a brow and looked to John. He shrugged again, but followed too.

Wanda and Kitty led them to Piotr and asked him to take Remy and John to the pool. Just outside of the villa, there was a man-made pool near the vineyards. John and Remy stripped out of there dirty clothing, which Piotr gathered up and took back to the women. When he returned, he showed Remy how to use olive oil to loosen the dirt, and to scrape his skin clean with a strigil and wet rag. The water was cool, but it felt wonderful to be clean.

While they were in the water, Kitty and Wanda approached and sat along the edge of the pool. Kitty blushed as she looked in Piotr's direction.

Wanda didn't try to hide her interest in John. She let her eyes wander over his exposed skin and gave him a sly grin when she met his eyes. Then she looked over to Remy and frowned a bit. "You're so thin."

"_Oui_…Remy's had a hard year, _chere_." Remy answered and continued to wash out his long hair.

Rogue peered around the corner of the villa to steal a glance at the men in the pool. She had seen the slaves bathe frequently enough, though her father warned her against it. But she couldn't help herself this time…besides, Wanda and Kitty watched.

John nudged Remy's side and tilted his head towards the house. "I think we have an audience."

Remy looked in the direction John indicated and saw a glimpse of auburn and white hair. What was she doing there?

Wanda held out a pair of clean tunics. John, completely unabashed by his nudity, took one from her hands and flashed a charming smile. When Remy rose from the water, Rogue had to bite her lip to keep from moaning at the sight of all that luscious skin bared. She had to give the men credit, they were all incredibly built.

Piotr stood and held out two rings in his hand. They were iron rings engraved with their names. It was a customary identification for slaves in this household. The weight of the iron ring was a tangible sign of their new bondage. Remy found it oppressive.

Once they were dressed again and they were marked by their rings, they group headed back for the house. Rogue took the moment to retreat to her room. What had she been thinking? If Kurt would have caught her spying on the men, he would have been hysteric.

A few short moments later, Kitty entered the room.

"Are you feeling alright, Rogue?" she asked.

Rogue shrugged. "Of course…why?"

Kitty's grin turned impish as she looked over her friend. "We saw you hiding around the corner." She laughed. "You look flushed."

Rogue was speechless.

"You…uhh…saw meh? Did _everyone_ see meh?"

Kitty looked away for a moment. "Well…I don't think the men cared, really. Slaves are used to little privacy after all. Besides, we couldn't really refuse you or the other masters, Rogue."

Rogue hated being reminded of her friend's horrible station in life. To her, slavery seemed wrong, but what could she do? For her people, it was just a fact of life. And she knew Kitty was right. She had heard stories from other citizens about the requests made upon household slaves. Both female and male slaves were assumed to be available for any perversion requested of them by their masters or other citizens. Fortunately, her parents were happily married and never requested any such favors.

Suddenly, Rogue felt guilty for her transgression.

She should apologize to them. Piotr would know she meant nothing by it, but the new arrivals didn't know her. What would they think? She didn't know why, but it bothered her that Remy might form the wrong opinion of her.

"Ah'll go and apologize, Kitty. Ah wasn't thinkin'."

Kitty shook her head. "It's alright, Rogue. Don't worry. I just haven't ever seen you that bold before…at least not when it comes to men. Do you like John?"

Rogue looked at her blankly. "John?"

Kitty tilted her head. "Yeah…the new slave. He's Greek."

Understanding sparked in her eyes. "No, not John. Ah haven't met him."

"Good…I think Wanda feels partial to that one." Even though relationships were forbidden between slaves, Rogue knew Kitty's attraction to Piotr and that he returned her feelings. Whenever her father was out, she would allow them some time together. "Does that mean you like Remy?"

Rogue shook her head in denial. "No…Ah'm just curious. Ah've never seen anyone like him before."

Kitty smiled. "He seems very nice, Rogue. But he's had a hard life so far, and he doesn't really trust anyone. Well…except for John. I think you'll like him."

Rogue was sure she would.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I know some of the characters are a bit OCC but they need to fit into this society. Hopefully, by the end you'll see they develop into what we know them to be. Many of the x-men will show up in this fic, so keep an eye out for them. I'll keep their names the same even though they don't fit with the Roman culture. Any Roman sounding names are original characters. Thanks and please let me know what you think!


	3. Beginnings

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men…No point in suing, since you'll only get credit card debit!

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I can't believe the number of responsed to this story! This chapter is a bit slow, but I promise that more action will happen in the following chapters (after all, we're near Vesuvius in 79 AD!). There will also be much more Romy, Kiotr, and Jonda very soon!

Amor Omnia Vincit

By: Kayleespade

**Chapter 3: Beginnings**

Remy had worked at the villa now for two of the Roman eight-day weeks. The Romans were strange he had decided. His hands were raw and his knees bruised from field work. The villa was beautiful and he enjoyed the fresh air, but it still felt like a prison at times. The heavy iron band around his finger was a constant reminder.

It was time to leave.

His new master had returned a week before and was true to his Roman upbringing. Stern and demanding, he required strict obedience and respect. John had fallen into the role well, and became favored by the man, but Remy was different. The man was leery of the Celt, and he disliked the attention Rogue paid the young man.

Remy had created a bond with John, Piotr and the other slaves and he would miss their companionship after he left. But he wanted his freedom. No, he _needed_ his freedom.

It wasn't clear at first how he would be able to escape. He was seldom allowed out of the villa walls. By day, both the front and rear gates were guarded…each had a doorman and a dog. It wasn't likely he could slip out undetected in the daytime. At night, the gates were closed and barred; each doorman slept near his post and each dog remained on duty. He might be able to charm his way through the guards but not the dogs. There had to be another way.

He studied the compound thoughtfully and used the little information he had gathered over his stay. There were no windows to the outside, except for a few narrow slits set very high in the walls, blocked with iron bars. The only windows looked out onto the central garden. But if he could get to the roof, he could escape.

Then he noticed the olive tree near one corner of the peristyle garden, across from Rogue's room. One branch extended toward the roof of the colonnade. It didn't quite reach, but was close enough to provide his way. If he climbed the tree, made his way out onto the overhanging branch, and then launched himself toward the roof, he could make it. If he didn't dislodge any of the terracotta roof tiles, or start to slide down off the roof, it would work.

John always slept next to Remy, and was a deep sleeper. As a precaution, he urged a little more wine on John at the evening meal. When he was certain John was asleep, he rose from his pallet and slipped into his tunic. _Adieu, mon ami_.

Noiselessly, Remy slipped from the slave courtyard and down the service corridor that led the length of the house. It was silent and eerie. The light from the full moon would make his escape more difficult, but he was unwilling to wait any longer.

He was now in a part of the house where he had no business to be, at this time of night. "No turnin' back now."

The garden was silvered with moonlight, and seemed as bright as full day. Again Remy looked around. Every room in the family's quarters faced onto this garden; most of the doorways were dark…except for Rogue's room. _Dieu_.

A lamp was lit and he was certain she must be awake.

The olive tree was within the line of sight from her room, but he couldn't stop now. It wasn't difficult for him to climb the olive tree; its gnarled branches offered easy hand and footholds. But the scrape of his hands and knees against the rough gray bark seemed loud in the silver silence.

Suddenly, a silhouette filled the window to Rogue's room. She stood there, her hand resting against the frame. She was looking up at the disk of the moon, rising over the rooftop behind Remy.

Remy shrank back against the trunk of the tree and gathered the folds of his cloak, trying to make certain that the pale fabric didn't show. He held his breath.

Rogue stood there for what seemed like an age, and Remy could have sworn she looked directly at him. But he must have been mistaken. She returned to her room; and shortly after that, she extinguished the lamp.

Remy crept out onto the branch, and crouched as far out along the branch as he dared. He tensed and leapt, hitting the roof at an angle. He slid a few feet downward back toward the courtyard, grappling at the tiles with his hands. Somehow, he managed to cling to the roof, although a tile that was dislodged slipped loose beneath his foot and fell into the garden.

The noise that it made when it hit the ground seemed loud enough to wake the dead. Remy froze. In the distance, he heard one of the guard dogs barking, a loud hoarse bark. A few tense moments passed, and he heard the gateman talking to the dog. Working quickly, he pulled himself up onto the roof and made his way down the other side. The last thing he saw as his head slipped below the ridge of the roof was the watchman entering the courtyard with a lamp in his hand, peering about.

Remy slid himself carefully down the outer edge of the roof, trying not to loosen any more tiles, and dropped as quietly as he could onto the ground outside. _Remy…y're loosin' your touch._ He thought, shaking his head and sighing.

Remy didn't meet anyone as he made his way down the road toward the city, but he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. The road was lined with tombs and monuments, and he paused to read some of the inscriptions in the brightening light. Many of these were statements of the person's virtues and accomplishments in life, addressed to passers-by in direct language. One tomb had a courtyard with stone seats. This was a place he learned where relatives of the deceased would come to share a feast with the departed. Strange traditions.

As he entered the city, Remy tried to hide his eyes. Carts and wagons rumbled through the streets, and he was careful to stay on the raised stone sidewalk. Most of the shops that lined the streets were sheltered from the rising sun by colorful cloth awnings. The mixed odors of garlic, cabbage, frying sausages, spiced meat pies, pastries, wine, and warm bread began to prick his appetite. Unfortunately these food aromas competed with the sour smells of urine and waste. The city smelled fetid. The streets were sewers.

The heat, smells, and noise of the crowded town made him suddenly appreciate how fortunate he had been to find a home in a country villa where the air was fresh and clean.

Beyond the city, along the horizon, Vesuvius dominated the skyline. It slept, its slopes still showing a little green.

Remy attracted unwelcome stares from a pair of women. Clearly he could not be an aristocrat. His garments were poor quality and he had no servants accompanying him. He kept his eyes down and hoped they would walk away.

They didn't.

As the women approached, Remy sighed and fingered the collar around his neck. He would have to get away from them without causing a scene if he hoped to make his way north.

The tall blonde smiled slyly as she approached him. "Hello, handsome. All alone?"

Her companion giggled and rolled her eyes. "Penelope, leave the poor man alone. I'm sure he's here for business. Right?"

Remy kept his eyes downcast, but nodded.

"Mmm.." Penelope smiled, as she ran her hand under his chin and lifted it slightly. "You are gorgeous, sweet."

An angry tick began working in Remy's jaw at the woman's attention.

Rattling a small pouch at her side, she leaned in and whispered in his ear. "I could make this little trip worth your while. Come inside with me before your master returns."

Remy hesitated as memories flooded through him. He saw himself as the respected leader he'd been. The hero and legend of Gaul. The man who had once made entire armies surrender as soon as they recognized him.

And then he saw himself as what he had become. An empty shell. A coveted pet, performing at the beck and call of his master. An object.

"His master's already here." A familiar voice came from the shadowed alley. "And she doesn't like your hands on him."

Rogue stepped out of the shadows and glared at the wealthy women ogling Remy, and a strange feeling rose up in her. She didn't like their actions at all. What right did they have to do that?

The women obviously recognized her, whispered their apologizes, and left immediately.

Rogue stood in front of Remy and raised a brow.

"Remy had t' try, _chere_."

Rogue tilted her head. "What does that mean?"

He drew his brows into a deep V. "What?"

"_Chere_…what does that mean?" Rogue asked again, stressing the foreign word.

Remy lowered his eyes again. "Nothing… _maîtresse_."

Rogue frowned. She knew what that word meant and she hated it. "Remy, Ah've known you for a few weeks now. How many times do Ah have to tell you not to call me that in private. You can call meh Anna or Rogue." She reached out to him, but he stepped back. "Are you leavin'?"

He looked up at that.

"It's alright if you are. Ah won't stop you."

Remy was shocked and touched by her words. Why would she let him leave? He looked her in the eyes and saw her sincerity. But Remy knew he couldn't leave the moment she stepped from the shadows. Rogue had followed him to the city. She would be blamed for his escape and it was a dangerous walk back to the villa. He couldn't leave her alone now. No, he must take her back and face whatever punishment they judged appropriate. His honor wouldn't let him do otherwise.

"No. Let Remy take y' home."

They made their way back to the country villa along the same road, but talked little. From the olive grove, they peered toward the gate, hoping that the gatekeeper was still asleep. But for once, he was awake. Remy swore under his breath. He had hoped to sneak them both back inside, but now that seemed unlikely.

The gatekeeper was angry when the couple presented themselves. Although he had not been involved in the escape, he had already been severely scolded once the master had realized that they were missing.

Rogue was pulled away from Remy by her mother, while Remy was taken into the courtyard before her father. He was in a furious rage. "Miserable Celt! Barbarian! We have no use for someone like you. You dare take my daughter from this house! You'll be sold, but first you'll learn obedience!"

Remy's hands were tied to a pillar in the corner of the slave courtyard, and pulled the tunic down around his waist. Slaves gathered to witness this spectacle. This type of punishment was very rare in this quiet household. Piotr sheilded Kitty's eyes as he held her in the shadows.

The pain was nothing new to him. He tried to hide the hurt, but it showed in his eyes. The cracking sound of the whip reverberated throughout the hallways and he heard Rogue scream as she ran into the courtyard. "Enough!" And she was closely followed by her mother.

"I told you to keep her away!" Her father said to his wife.

"I tried."

Rogue looked at Remy with such sympathy, he wanted to run or turn away. He didn't want her pity.

Rogue turned on her father and they quarreled. Her father said, "I'm selling him, Anna. He's worthless and I don't trust the barbarian. He's proven himself untrustworthy by running away and stealing you away."

"No! He didn't steal meh. Ah followed him! Piotr says he works hard, father, and he only went out for one day. Please."

"I don't like him, Anna. That is reason enough to sell him. I'm the _paterfamilias_."

There were more harsh words between them. Remy started to become weak and dizzy, standing there with blood trickling down his back, and the cords cutting into his wrists.

Moments before darkness claimed him, he heard his master relent. "Maybe you're right, dear. There may be a use for him after all."

* * *

Remy regained consciousness and was lying face down on his pallet in the slave quarters. Rogue was there, washing his wounds with vinegar. This was almost more painful than the blows from the whip, but he understood that it was necessary. She applied a poultice to the lacerations and welts on his back and wrapped him in bandages soaked with wine. Her touch was gentle, but the pain was nevertheless excruciating. 

"Drink this," she commanded, and he obeyed. The warm wine had a bitter flavor. "The drug will dull the pain."

"_Merci… maîtresse_."

Rogue frowned again. "Please, Remy. Don't call by that title."

Remy groaned in response as the wine soaked into his wounds. "As y' wish."

Every inch of his body was coated in sweat. The muscles in his arms were taut and he seldom spoke for the rest of the night. When he did, it was through clenched teeth.

Rogue stayed with Remy all night despite Piotr's urging against it. She felt responsible for this and wanted to help him in any way possible. Kitty brought her a damp rag and she bathed his fevered brow, and brushed her hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "You're on fire."

"Remy knows. It feels like I'm lyin' on a bed of coals."

He hissed as she drew the cool cloth over his skin.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"_Non_."

Rogue settled closer to his side, and Kitty gave her a knowing smile as she sat beside Piotr and took his hand in hers.

The fever finally broke before dawn and his condition improved dramatically. Remy opened his eyes and saw Rogue curled up on a cot in the corner of the room. She had stayed with him. But why? Why did she care?

Rogue stirred and she met his eyes. "Y' stayed?" He asked.

She smiled and nodded. "Ah'm sorry."

Remy shook his head and ran a hand through his long hair. "Y' have nothin' t' be sorry for."

Rogue wanted to reach out and comfort him. She'd never felt this way about any man before, but there was something about Remy that called out to her. She wanted to know everything there was to know about him.

"Are you feelin' better?"

Remy graced her with a rare smile. "_Oui…Merci_." He saw the beams of morning light filter through the slits high in the wall. Stretching as he stood, he sighed and looked to John. "Do y' know what dey're goin' t' do with Remy?"

John looked pointedly at Rogue.

Her face saddened.

"Are dey goin' t' sell me?"

Rogue shook her head. "No, Remy. Father agreed to keep you here, but he's goin' to change your duties."

Remy was confused. Shouldn't they be relieved that he was staying? Why we they so upset? "And dis is bad?"

"No," Rogue frowned. "But my father wants you to help meh."

He looked at her blankly. They had never had the discussion concerning their powers, and she knew he didn't understand. "Ah need help controlin' mah gift. Since he doesn't trust you, father sees this as a way to see into your mind…and he knows Ah'm comfortable around you."

Piotr spoke up from his cot. "Rogue's gift works through touch, comrade. She can take memories and essence."

Remy looked at Rogue's gloved hands. "Is dat why y' where de gloves? Y' can't touch?"

Rogue hung her head and nodded.

Remy couldn't believe his ears. He felt her pain and it clenched his heart. How could someone live without human contact? He was a slave, but Rogue was a prisoner in her own skin. She had been willing to let him leave, and he was determined to help her if he could.

He knelt down before her and took her gloved hands in his. "Anna," he looked into her eyes, and Rogue blinked. She was amazed at how hot and cold his touch made her. "Remy'd be honored t' help y'."

Rogue looked at him with large, surprised eyes. "Aren't you afraid of meh?"

"_Non,"_ he reached up and brushed her hair back over her shoulder.

"But Ah…" She couldn't say the words. Tears stung her eyes. Never had someone offered to do this for her besides Kitty, and here Remy was, offering himself to help a stranger. Remy touched something inside her on a level that went beyond the physical.

Sensing her emotions, Remy acted against his recent training and held her. Piotr reached over and stroked Kitty's hand as they watched the tender embrace. At least in their hidden sanctuary, these moments were possible and treasured.

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for reading! This chapter focused mainly on Remy and Rogue and will help set up their beginning relationship. And yes...it will grow into something soon. The next chapter will introduce some other x-men and will expand on the Kiotr relationship. It will also have the first of Rogue's sessions with Remy. Please let me know what you thought! 


	4. Confessions

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men…No point in suing, since you'll only get credit card debit!

A/N: Sorry for the wait! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!

* * *

Amor Omnia Vincit

By: Kayleespade

**Chapter 4: Confessions**

The sound of the terracotta bowl smashing on the floor reverberated throughout the halls. Kitty bent down and carefully began cleaning up the small pieces, but paused when Piotr's hand covered hers.

Their eyes met, and he whispered, "Let me help, Katja."

"Thank you."

They knelt on the floor in silence as they cleaned up the scattered shards, but it was moments like these that they both longed for…quiet moments alone…together. It was a hard life always being so close but kept apart by the social rules of the house. Although the punishment of their love was never openly discussed, they both realized that Piotr would be sent away or sold. Kitty was too close to the master's daughter, Rogue. Both refused to think about life without each other, so they worked within the boundaries of the rules and stole these secret moments whenever possible.

"How's Remy?" Kitty asked, breaking the silence that had settled in the room.

Piotr gave her a small smile. "He's better and working in the field today with the Greek. Why so curious about him?"

"Rogue keeps asking me about him…where he came from, what he's like, and what I know about him."

Piotr shook his head.

"What?" Kitty asked with a puzzled expression.

"It's a bad idea to encourage her, Katja. You saw how she watched over him after his punishment. What if something develops?"

Kitty stood and put her hands on her hips. "Why does it have to be this way? We're no different than the others. It's not fair!"

"I know," Piotr sighed and stood. "But it is unlikely to ever change." He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. "We just have to take what we can, _da_?"

"Yeah, but..." Kitty leaned against him and rested her head against his chest.

Their moment didn't last long. A bell chimed in the villa ending the peace.

"That's the masters. They need me." Kitty pulled away from Piotr's arms slowly. As she left the room, she paused in the doorway and looked back over her shoulder giving him a parting smile.

In the now empty room, Piotr whispered the words that he always kept to himself. "I love you, Katja."

* * *

While the Italian midday sun burned down on the workers as they plowed the outlining fields, Remy took a short break. The bark of the withered tree bit into his bare back. He draped his arm over his bent knee and twisted a small twig between his fingers, leaning his head back to look up at the sky. So much had changed over the past few years. Where would the fates lead him next?

Remy could sense his presence even before John appeared. The Greek took a seat next to the Celt and sighed. Throwing his arms into the air, he fell back onto the ground and whistled. "What a day, huh?"

"What are y' doin' here, _mon ami_?"

John propped himself up on his elbows and smiled. "I just thought I'd see if you'd be interested in a game of dice tonight. The rules are simple enough, and the others would like you to join. What do you say?"

Remy looked over to John and nodded. "_Oui_…why not."

"Excellent!" A devilish look crossed his features as he bounded to his feet. "By the way, keep an eye out. The workers are talking about a visitor that's coming today to help Anna with her powers." John patted Remy on the shoulder and turned to leave. "You might get called to the house."

"John…" Remy called out.

"Yeah?" John stopped and turned back.

Remy stood and wiped the grass from his leather pants. "The trees over dere…Remy's never seen anything like dat. What happened?"

John let his eyes drift in the direction Remy pointed to and saw the side of the mountain in the distance. The trees along the crest were dead or dying. "Hmm…I'm not sure. Probably nothing. Maybe Ceres has been neglected in the city." John turned towards the field but called over his back. "Don't forget about tonight…and bring your coins."

Remy only smiled.

* * *

Kurt was practicing his lessons when he heard the servants bustling in a commotion downstairs. He leaned out the small balconied window and watched the people scurry about below and then heard a familiar voice. _Emma!_

Piotr led the white-clad demi-goddess through the atrium to the grand meeting room. She was known throughout the empire as one of the most powerful of the gifted Alti, the chosen few with the power of gods. The restrictions of Roman society never applied to Emma. She did as she pleased and thoroughly enjoyed breaking the boundaries in every way. Today, she was dressed in a revealing, white wrap that covered what was needed but little else and a golden diadem, symbolizing her status. She had an ethereal presence akin to that of Venus and radiated confidence and sexuality.

After hearing of Rogue's powers, Emma had volunteered to help her hone her gift and prepare her for a possible place among them. Ever since, she had visited the villa frequently, tutoring Rogue in all facets of life, and had developed a unique relationship with the family.

"Has everything been running smoothly since my last visit, Piotr?" Emma asked, as she stopped to admire a statue with her likeness…a narcissist to the end.

Piotr bowed his head before nodding in affirmation.

Emma placed a hand on her hip and arched a brow. "Really?"

Before he could respond, the smell of sulfur and smoke announced Kurt's appearance. "Lady Emma, how nice to see you!" He knelt down and took her hand in his.

"Hello, Kurt. It's nice to be seen." Emma smiled, as Kurt kissed her hand and stood. "Where's your sister? We have much to do today."

"Ah'm here, Emma." Rogue stepped down from the stairs and approached. "Leave Lady Emma alone, Kurt."

"Boys, could you leave us alone? And, Piotr, fetch the man Anna's father told me about. We'll get started right away, dear." Emma said, placing a hand on Rogue's shoulder.

Kurt frowned but followed Piotr out of the room, leaving Rogue and Emma alone.

Rogue looked down, but her chin was caught by Emma's finger. "Don't lower your eyes to anyone, dear. Remember your status and demonstrate confidence always."

"Yes, Emma."

It wasn't long before Piotr returned, leading Remy into the room and then quickly left. Emma's attention immediately was focused on the new servant of the household. Rogue watched as she studied him like one might a prize stallion for auction. "Now where did you come from, handsome?" Emma asked, cocking her head and arching a thin brow.

"Gaul," Remy replied, keeping his eyes on the floor.

Emma circled him and traced a finger over his bare shoulders. "Hmm, I should go there more often then."

Rogue could barely contain her frustration. What did she think she was doing? Clearing her throat, Rogue asked, "Can we get started now?"

Emma looked over at her pupil and smiled. "Of course, dear. Come."

Rogue started for the stairs, and Remy followed after her, but was stopped by Emma's firm hand around his wrist. Rogue turned when she heard Emma's stern voice.

"Kiss me."

Shocked, Remy stared at the brazen woman. "_Pourquoi?"_

Rogue's jaw dropped as her temper rose. "Emma…"

Emma held her hand out to silence her and stared deeply into Remy's ruby and onyx eyes. "Was that a refusal, slave?"

Remy lowered his eyes, but stepped forward slowly.

"Remy? You don't…" Rogue began but stopped as Emma pulled Remy down into a forceful kiss.

Remy clenched his fists as he kissed the goddess, and let her take her pleasure. Never before had Rogue felt the desire to stand up to Emma more than she did at that moment. She had heard all the stories about women using their status like this, and it disgusted her. Emma was treating Remy like an object, a toy for her taking. _Get your hands off him!_ Her mind screamed.

Slowly, Emma pulled away from Remy and turned to Rogue with a quirked brow. Rogue immediately realized what she had just done. Emma had heard her silent order. What would she say?

Emma smiled. "That's my girl. You're finally learning, aren't you?" The tall blonde walked up to Rogue and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now, we can begin, and talk later."

The three continued in silence to the library, where the sessions were typically conducted. Emma took a seat at the large desk, while Rogue sat on a plush cushion placed on the floor. Remy stood in the center of the room and took in his surrounding. This was his first time in this part of the house, and he didn't like the unfamiliarity. He felt even more vulnerable.

The room was spacious and had a large window along the back wall allowing light to pour into the space. Cases stretched to the ceiling, each with numerous slots filled with scrolls and small knickknacks. Mentally, Remy ticked off his options of escape or defense if needed.

"Sit." Emma ordered and pointed to a cushion on the floor in front of Rogue.

Remy sat and looked into Rogue's eyes. He could see her conflict, but wasn't sure whether that came from what happened in the atrium or from her fear of what was to come. He nodded his head and gave her a subtle smile of reassurance.

Rogue sighed and looked over to Emma. "Ah don't know about this. What if…"

Remy, contrary to his training, reached out and took Rogue's gloved hand in his. "Remy wants t' help." He squeezed gently, "Jus' tell him what t' do, _chere_."

"Take her glove off, handsome. Her gift works through touch." Emma looked over to Rogue. "I'll be here if anything happens, dear. Don't worry."

As Remy went to remove her glove, Rogue tried to pull away but he held firmly. "Anna…It's alright."

She held her breath as Remy pulled the smooth glove from her hand. No one had willingly submitted themselves to her touch knowing what would happen, but Remy never hesitated…and it drew her to him even more.

Remy held his hand out before her and looked into her emerald eyes.

"Take his hand, Anna. I'm right here."

Rogue reached out and lipped 'I'm sorry' as her hand touched his.

A few seconds passed before the familiar flood of memories rushed into her mind. Suddenly she was standing in a foreign land surround by tall sweeping grass. Three small boys ran through the open field, laughing and playing, when one turned and she saw red on black eyes looking right through her. It was Remy as a child, and he was happy. The smallest boy stumbled and fell to the ground.

"Careful, Lapin! Watch f'r de bog!" Remy yelled. "If y' fall in, y' won't come out."

The scene shifted, and she saw Remy older, and stretched out on a table in the center of a large roundhouse. He was sweating and stripped bare except for a leather skin placed over his lower half. An elderly man stood over him as the other men and women watched on.

The elder pulled down the leather skin to reveal Remy's right hip, and took out a thin quill. After a few preparations, he began to lightly hammer a design. The quill pierced the skin, painfully inserting drops of ink. Remy gritted his teeth and clenched his fists around the edges of the table with each beat of the mallet.

The scene shifted and Rogue saw the silhouette of a woman. She was standing in the back of a room behind a small fire with her back to the door. Rogue couldn't make out any of her features, until the other woman turned to look at her. She was beautiful with long, flowing blonde hair and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. A name echoed in her mind…_Belladonna_…and the scenes faded away.

Rogue's eyes shot open and she gasped as if waking from a nightmare. Emma was kneeling beside her, while Remy was still unconscious. "Remy!"

Emma looked over her shoulder at the young man. "He's alright, dear. He's just resting."

Rogue moved over to his side and heaved a breath of relief when she saw his chest rising and falling. "Ah can't believe he's doin' this for meh. Do you think it'll help, Lady Emma?"

"We'll see, but it couldn't hurt. You need practice with human contact, Anna…and he's a good candidate for such a lesson." Emma smiled down at her.

"Why do you say that?"

Emma ran a finger along Remy's forehead and pushed a few stray strands of hair from his face. "Several reasons…Besides being a slave and more expendable, he's remarkably strong. He has some of the strongest mental shields I've ever encountered, and he's physically fit. His body will be able to handle the strain of your powers." Emma's fingers dropped lower and followed the contours of Remy's arm. Rogue watched her fingers glide over Remy's tanned skin and felt her temperature rise.

Emma smirked at Rogue's reaction. "And you like him, don't you."

Rogue's eyes shot up. "What?"

Emma laughed. "It's quite alright, dear. I was wondering when you'd find someone who ignited your interest. And I must admit that you have wonderful taste."

Rogue shook her head in denial. "No, you don't understand. Ah don't…"

"You don't?" Emma asked. "Then explain that burst earlier. I've never seen you stand up to anyone before, let alone presume to give an order to me. You wouldn't mind then if I kissed him again, right now?"

Rogue looked down at Remy. "Ah…Ah just don't like to see people abuse their power."

Emma scoffed at that. "That was not what I heard in your mind, dear. You clearly expressed a dislike in me touching _him_. I doubt it would've invoked such a strong response if had I kissed Piotr instead. But I wonder if I would've enjoyed it as much. Your barbarian is a _very_ skilled man."

Rogue took Remy's hand and stroked it with her gloved fingers. "Ah'm not sure what Ah feel, Emma. Ah'm curious about him, and he fascinates meh. Whenever Ah'm around him, Ah get this awkward feelin' inside."

Emma stood and walked back over to the desk and smiled. "Hmm…I don't think your father would approve of this discussion. The feeling you described could be merely lust, especially given your unique situation, but remember your station in life, Anna. It's alright to satisfy your curiosity with the Celt and get your pleasure, but nothing more. He's a slave. Even I refuse to cross certain boundaries, dear."

"Ah know, Lady Emma. Ah'm not makin' any sense, am Ah?" She shook her head, but held onto Remy's hand.

"I'll leave you alone, dear. Call me if his condition changes."

Rogue could hear Emma's footfalls echo through the halls of the house as she crossed the atrium to the outer courtyard, leaving the house. Rogue brushed the hair back from Remy's forehead and laid her hand against his brow. "What draws meh to you?"

Rogue sat there in silence and thought over the memories her session had revealed. Remy was truly a strong man. Perhaps too strong. And yet as she watched him, she didn't see a strong chieftain. She saw only a handsome man who looked peaceful and calm. A look that wasn't there when he was awake, but one she had seen in the ghost of his childhood.

Glancing down, she became curious. Rogue reached for the hem of his leather pants, but paused just above the right hip. Gathering her courage, she gingerly pushed the hem down slightly, revealing the mark just over his hipbone. She traced the lines of it with her fingertip. It must have hurt badly. What did it signify?

The vision of the blonde from Remy's memories came and brought a surge of emotion with it. "Who's Belladonna? And why…why am Ah so angry?"

Her heart heavy, she lay beside him on the floor, close to his warm body. She shouldn't be doing this. Yet she couldn't stop herself. She wanted to comfort him. Needed to feel him close to her.

She felt lost. Alone. She didn't know what her future held anymore. Truthfully, that terrified her. Uncertainties assailed her and brought tears to her eyes. "What am Ah goin' to do?" she whispered as silent tears started falling. "Ah need guidance, _Di Immortales_. Mah father wants meh to be strong, not lost and unsure."

Suddenly she felt the strength of Remy's hand on hers. She swallowed in trepidation as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Rogue pulled back as Remy rolled over to face her.

"Don't cry, Anna," he whispered, wiping the tears from her cheeks with a soft cloth from his pocket. "Remy won't let anyone hurt y', not even y'r father. I know what it's like t' be without a home and family and I'll pledge my soul dat y'll never know dat feelin'."

His words only succeeded in making her cry more.

"Shhh," he breathed.

"Ah'm sorry," she whispered. "Ah don't normally cry. Ah don't. Ah'm just at a loss."

"Remy's so often at a loss dat it seems his most natural state." He couldn't believe he'd confessed that to her. Even when he was at his worst, he refused to allow anyone to know it.

"You're just tryin' to make meh feel better."

"_Non,_ Anna. Truly. Remy's often baffled by life. Struck dumb, actually."

One corner of her mouth lifted at that. "Ah don't believe you."

He watched her eyes glisten from her tears. Before she realized what he was doing, he was tracing the curve of her eyebrow with his thumb. This was the most intimate moment of her life, and they were both lying clothed.

She looked up at him as if he were some type of hero sent to help her instead of a slave.

Rogue licked her lips as she watched Remy watching her. It was intense, hot, and it stole her breath away.

"Rogue!" Kurt's voice called out from the courtyard. "Rogue, where are you?"

Startled, she jumped to her feet and ran to the window, leaving Remy on the floor. "Ah'm here. What is it?"

"General Creed is here to see you."

* * *

A/N: I am SO sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter out. I had planned on having it out a month ago, but ended up in the hospital for a some time. All's better now, so expect regular updates on all my stories. I have over half of chapter 5 of Passion's Revenge done, so It'll be out next weekend at the latest. Thanks to everyone who's still reading! 


	5. Promises Made

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men…No point in suing, since you'll only get credit card debit!

A/N: I just wanted to take a minute and thank everyone who reads this story and those who review. Of the stories I've written on fanfiction, this one has recieved the most interest, which is wonderful. When I first thought about posting it, I wasn't sure if there would be an audience for this type of story, but I was wrong. So thanks again to everyone!

Amor Omnia Vincit

By: Kayleespade

**Chapter 5: Promises Made**

"General Creed is here for you!"

Rogue turned back toward Remy and covered her face with her hands. "Please, not today."

Remy tried to stand but collapsed back to the floor. Rogue knelt by his side and gently pushed him back onto the pillows. "No, Remy. You need to rest. My powers leave people drained…just stay here, okay?"

Remy nodded and squeezed Rogue's hand.

Kurt's voice rang out through the house a second time. "Anna!"

"Ah'm comin', Kurt!" Rogue shouted, and then ran her hand through Remy's hair with a smile. "Ah'll be back soon."

Down in the courtyard, Victor paced around the impluvium as he waited for Anna. It had been several months since his last visit. He just finished campaigning in Britannia and received his eighth triumph. He had been waiting for this day for quite some time.

"Well, well, well…Victor, what a pleasure."

Victor turned and watched the white goddess emerge from the shadows. With a feral grunt, he turned his back to her. "Just great…What are _you_ doing here?"

With her hands on her hips, Emma moved to his side. "I could ask the same of you. As it happens, I'm helping Anna today. She might be taking a place with Alti sooner than we could have hoped."

Victor grumbled. "Yeah…the Alti."

Emma smirked. "Oh, Victor. Stop your grumbling. There's no reason to be that way just because you aren't among our ranks."

Victor turned on the goddess. "The _only_ reason, lady, that I'm not a member of your little group is because of the runt!"

Emma laughed. "Somehow I don't believe Logan would appreciate that description, Creed. After all, we only need one feral and Logan far surpasses you in _every_ way."

"Hardly!" Victor growled. "So you're helping Anna with her control? How's is coming along?"

Emma sat on the edge of the reflecting pool. "Better than I had hoped…especially with the new motivation."

"What motivation?"

"You didn't know?" Emma smiled. "Her father decided to have one of his slaves assist us in our sessions. I believe experimentation with frequent human contact will quicken our results."

Victor grabbed Emma by her shoulders. "What!"

Turning into her diamond form, Emma pushed Victor away and stood. "Don't _ever_ touch me again, Creed! And yes, Anna may have _finally_ found someone who can inspire her." Emma returned to her normal state and ran an elegant finger down Victors chin. "And he is as handsome as Hades himself."

Victor swatted Emma's hand away. "I always knew you would be a bad influence on Anna. You'll not turn her into a _lupa_ like yourself! I'll make sure of that!"

"We'll see, won't we? Now be a good puppy, and run off."

Victor shook his head. "No, I'm here to see Anna and her father. I won't leave until I do."

"General Creed." Rogue said as she stepped out into the court.

Completely ignoring Emma, Victor stepped over to Anna and knelt before her. "Anna…" He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "It's a pleasure."

It took all of Rogue's will power to not wipe her hand on her cloak. "Thank you."

Emma quietly left the two alone, but not before projecting a final thought to Rogue. _Be careful, dear. The man might give you fleas._

Rogue laughed and Victor furrowed his brows.

"Oh, don't mind meh, General. Ah was just thinkin' of a story Kitty told meh earlier." She lied.

Piotr stood in the doorway, watching over Anna in the absence of her brother and father. It would be improper for her to left alone with the man. He had to restrain himself from pulling her away after the stories Remy had told them about his capture. A man the like of General Creed did not deserve such a lady as Anna.

"Emma mentioned that you had a session with her this morning. Are you alright?"

Rogue nodded. "Yes, Ah am. Everything went very well, Ah think."

"I also was told that you have a slave helping you. Is this true?" Victor asked, stiffening his back.

She hesitated in answering. "Actually…yes."

The general started moving towards Piotr and the villa's interior.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Rogue asked as she caught up to him.

"I'm going to see this slave for myself. I want to make sure you're safe, Anna."

Rogue rushed past Victor and held her hands out. "No, General. You shouldn't worry yourself. Emma supervises the sessions and…and…"

Victor continued up the stairs and approached the room. When he looked in, he saw Remy on the floor. Something inside him told Victor that he knew this young man, but he couldn't place him. "Is that the slave?"

Rogue looked in and saw Remy. She smiled wistfully, forgetting herself. "He is."

Victor saw the smile and the hidden emotion behind it. Turning back to look at the boy, he fought to control his temper…something he lacked skills in…but then the boy opened his eyes.

Red on black eyes met amber. With a feral growl, Victor launched himself into the room and grabbed Remy by the collar before he could react to the threat. "You!"

Rogue ran into the room and yelled for Victor to drop Remy, but he heard nothing. The animal inside had taken over. Remy struggled against the feral, but couldn't break his grip. "Put Remy down, _chaton_!"

Growling, the General pushed Remy up against the wall and lifted him for the ground. "Not so powerful now are you, Thunderer?"

"Geeral, please! Put him down!" Anna shouted as she pulled on Victor's arm.

Looking down into her green eyes, Victor calmed and finally released the Celt. Remy gasped and locked stares with the other man. "Y' take dis collar off, and Remy'll show y' how powerful he 's!"

Rogue stepped between the two, afraid that they might hurt each other. She knew her father would not approve of the slave fighting with one of the most respected military men of the Roman army, and couldn't watch Remy be punished again.

Piotr stepped up beside Remy and helped him to his feet.

"Piotr, please take Remy outside. I'll stay with the General." Rogue said and took Creed by the arm, leading him away from the others.

"Yes, Anna." Piotr said. "Come with me, Remy."

Remy stood firm and clearly wanted to stay and continue this encounter, but Piotr managed to pull him from the room and into the hall.

Rogue sat down next to the window and looked outside. "You know him?"

Creed huffed. "Yeah, I know him. I'll never forget those eyes. I'm the one who captured the Celt several years ago. I never knew your father bought him or I would've come sooner. He's not the type to have in a household, Anna. He should've been taken care of long ago." Victor turned his back to her.

"What happened?" Rogue asked. She found that she needed to know.

Creed turned back to her and reached for her hand. "You don't want to know, Rogue. War is not for the ears of women."

Comments like that angered Rogue more than any others.

"I'm going to go to your father, Anna. Hopefully, I'll be seeing much more of you in the future." Kissing her hand once again, he left.

Now that he was out of sight, Rogue wiped her hand on her cloak and jumped to her feet. She hated that man with every fiber of her being, but society dictated that he deserved respect. In all her life, she had never met someone so egotistical and domineering. She despised every touch and conversation they shared. Every time she saw Victor Creed, she prayed it would be the last.

* * *

Later that night, Remy was still fuming from his encounter with the Roman general. Piotr had tried to talk to him and calm him down, but nothing worked. Remy kept seeing images of the cruelty the man had inflicted upon his people and the treatment he had received from the man during his trek to Rome. He lived each day with the hope of facing Creed again and seeing justice done…for his people, his friends, and his wife.

Finally, John was able to convince Remy to join some of the other men in a 'friendly' game of knucklebones and dice.

"Remy's had a bad day, _mon ami_. Hope dis game's a good one." Remy said as he took a seat opposite John.

John rubbed his chin. "I don't know. If you're not up to it, maybe you shouldn't play. These guys are serious. Do you think you can handle it?"

Remy gave a crooked grin. "_Oui_, Remy's up t' it. Jus' one thing…how do y' play?"

The other men smiled and chuckled. They all thought this would be easy money, and that's just what Remy wanted them to think. None of the other servants, save Piotr, thought the Celt could hold his own against the 'more civilized' minds. This would be his opportunity to put them all in their places.

After John finished explaining the rules, the men placed their bets and the game began. It was simple. Six dice were rolled on the table but left covered under a wooden cup, while each player shook and rolled three dice of their own. The players would know the numbers rolled on their own dice but not those of the others or those of the center six. A number was chosen and each player had to guess the number of times that selected number appeared on all of the dice. This went on until a man was challenged by another. Chance played a part in the game, but Remy learned it was won by those who could keep their emotions in check and their faces stoic.

No problem.

After only three rounds, Remy could read the other players. Whenever Tullius had a poor set, he would twist the small golden band around his finger. If John had a full set, he would begin humming. Each and every one had a tell.

It was two hours into the night and Remy had accumulated a month's salary. Kitty and Piotr sat to the side and quietly observed as the various players decided to challenge the barbarian only to be defeated quickly. John was the only player who refused to retire his seat.

Wanda let out a deep breath. She had had enough. Jumping down from the barrel she was sitting on, she walked behind John and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Leave the table, John. You can either go on your own two legs or I'll carry you away."

His gaze slid to hers. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, trust me." She said in deadly earnest. "I would and I'm man enough to do it, too."

John stared at her in shock.

Wanda placed her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot. "Well?"

Clearing his throat, John smiled and tipped his head to Remy. "It has…umm…been a pleasure, but I should be going." Then he looked back to Wanda and faltered. "Uh…"

Wanda took his hand and winked. "That's a good boy. Now let's get you somewhere where you won't cause yourself any more problems."

John perked up at that. "Really? For instance?"

Wanda smirked. "Well…I could use some help cleaning the soot from the kitchen. How's that sound, Greek?"

"That's not exactly what I had hoped for, Wanda love."

Wanda stopped suddenly and stiffened. John was unprepared for her stop and ran right into her back. "What the…"

Wanda turned on him in an instant. "What did you just call me? If I ever hear that again, I'll literally clean the kitchen with you! Now move!"

John rushed around her and ran straight for the darkened kitchen. Kitty watched his retreating form and laughed. Wanda turned her glare onto the younger girl and then followed after John.

"She really has it bad." Kitty whispered to Piotr, taking his hand in hers.

"You think so?"

Kitty laid her head on his strong shoulder and nodded. "Oh, yeah. Wanda never gets that worked up unless she fighting with herself. She must really like that one."

Piotr stroked Kitty's hair and sighed. "Then I certainly feel sorry for John. No man should be forced to deal with the wrath of Wanda."

Meanwhile Remy was clearing the table of his earnings and listening to the couple. Everyone knew about Piotr and Kitty, but it was seldom ever acknowledged in the open. He looked over his shoulder and saw the pair as they shared a private moment and held onto each other lovingly.

Silently, Remy left the pair alone and walked out into the warm Italian air. The slave quarters were just off of the main villa and Remy could see the faint light of a single lantern burning in the main house. He turned and walked down to the secluded pool.

Kneeling down, he took a small leather pouch from his side and poured some of its contents into his hand. After he sprinkled the loose dirt on the ground, he drew a symbol on the bank and bowed his head.

A snap of a twig told him he wasn't alone.

Keeping his head bowed, he spoke to the shadows. "Y' can come out. Remy knows y're here."

Rogue stepped out from the dark and lowered her eyes. "Ah'm sorry. Ah didn't mean to interrupt."

Remy sat back on his ankles and he turned to look up at her. "What _are_ y' doin' out here, Anna? Your father wouldn't like it."

Rogue lifted up her wrap and waded out into the water, soaking her legs. Remy watched as the moonlight highlighted her auburn hair.

"What were you doing? What's that symbol?"

Remy looked down to the marking in the dirt in front of him. Bitterness glowed in his exotic eyes. "In truth?"

"Yes."

"Dat's de symbol of _Camulos_. He's the war god of de Celts. Remy was jus' askin' for his help in avengin' my men and friends, _chere_." Remy ran his hand over the symbol and picked up some of the loose soil and ran it through his fingers. "I miss de feel of my native soil under my feet. Dis is all I have left."

Remy stood and placed some of the soil back into his leather pouch.

"Tell meh about your home." Rogue stared into Remy's eyes and saw his sorrow.

He stripped off his shirt and placed the small pouch on the bank before wading out beside her. Taking a deep breath he dove under the water and reappeared a few seconds later farther out behind her.

As he ran his hand through his wet hair, he turned to look at her. "It's a beautiful place, _chere_…none like it anywhere. Tall grasses wave in de wind and level fields stretch out for miles. To de north, dere are forests so dense y' believe de trees are alive. Y' can feel de power of nature in everything." Remy swam over to her and took her gloved hand in his. "Y' can feel it in de wind, ground…" With his hand over hers, he ran it over the surface of the pool. "…and de water."

Rogue held her breath at the sensation he was causing within her. "It…it sounds wonderful."

Remy locked gazes with her and lifted his hand to her face. Rogue didn't flinch as he traced the back of his fingers a breath from her cheek. "_Oui…belle_."

He dipped his head towards hers and saw the hesitation in her eyes. Pulling back, he looked down. "_Desole, chere_…sorry. Remy forgot his place."

As he began to turn away from her, Rogue grabbed his arm. "No, Remy…stay with meh. Ah just don't want to hurt you."

Remy's breath caught in his throat as he saw the tender look on Rogue's face. As dark as the night had gotten, he knew she couldn't see him all that well, but his unique eyes gave him a perfect view of her face. And she was beautiful. Her green eyes were tinged with dark circles, but they in no way took away from her angelic features. In that instant, he knew he should walk away, but he didn't want to leave her either.

Rogue's heart pounded as she watched Remy. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Using her hair as a barrier, she rested her head on his chest and inhaled his masculine scent. Chills spread through her and she delighted in the feel of his muscles under her gloved hands. It felt so good to not be alone in the darkness. So good to just hold someone, but especially this man who'd sacrificed himself for her and comforted her.

They stood there, holding each other, for a few moments.

Remy began to feel Rogue's body tremble and he looked down at her. "What wrong, Anna?"

"Just hold meh, Remy."

He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her tightly against him.

Closing her eyes, Rogue focused on the feel of Remy's arms and the sound of his strong heartbeat.

"Anna?"

Without lifting her head, she decided to give him an answer. "My father…He promised meh to General Creed today. Ah don't want to marry him, Remy!"

Remy could feel the muscle working in his jaw as she held onto him. "Y' won't have t' marry dat animal, _chere_. Remy'll take care of it."

Rogue pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes. She could see that he was serious. He intended to face Creed.

Remy ran his hand through her hair and pulled her against him again.

"But Creed's a…"

Remy hushed her and looked into her eyes. "If anyone knows what Creed is, _chere_, Remy does. He's a monster. Pray y' never learn how much of a monster he truly is. Y' deserve so much more, Anna. And y'll get it. Dat I promise."

* * *

A/N: I had a day off from school due to snow, so I thought I'd get this posted early. Since I got this one out, I should have the next chapter of Passion's Revenge out this weekend. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought. It won't be long before the action literally _explodes_ in this story, so keep an eye out for updates!


	6. Caged Hearts

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men…No point in suing, since you'll only get credit card debit!

A/N: In this chapter, I mention the Remi tribe. This was a real tribe noted by Roman historians that lived in northern Gaul.

Amor Omnia Vincit

By: Kayleespade

**Chapter 6: Caged Hearts**

Rogue stood before her father, the _paterfamilias_, with her head lowered in respect and obedience.

"It's too late, Anna. The negotiations have been completed." Her father looked at her sharply.

"But…"

"No, Anna. I won't stand for any arguments from you." He stood and moved towards her. "I am the _paterfamilias_ and you will do as I say. General Creed is a wealthy man with a good name. He'll make you a fine husband, and you should be happy that I was able to arrange for such a match. He's far more than your mother and I had hoped for you, considering your…gift."

Rogue stood her ground. "But Ah don't love him…Ah don't even _like_ him!"

Her father laughed. "Since when did love matter in marriage? Love is only a foolish emotion that weakens us and makes us vulnerable. We would all do well if love never entered in upon our lives. More people are wounded by Venus than by Mars, child."

"Father, please."

He gave a sign of dismissal and Rogue reluctantly left the room. Her father had made his decision and nothing could change his mind now short of an omen.

Rogue went to her room and talked to Kitty about her situation. She refused to resign herself to a marriage to Victor Creed. The man was older than anyone she knew and he always made her feel uncomfortable. Even as a child, he had reminded her of a viper waiting to strike, and yesterday she had witnessed some of his explosive temperament when he attacked Remy.

Early in the afternoon, a visitor was announced. Logan had been close friends with Rogue's grandfather, and they had fought side by side in the Punic Wars. He had respected her grandfather, but found her father to be rather useless. Nevertheless, Logan visited the family villa frequently and had taken a liking to Rogue and Kurt.

Logan was considered to be the most physically powerful of the Alti and was the oldest. In fact, no one knew exactly how long he had been alive, only that he had survived fatal wounds with little difficulty. Recently, Logan and the weather goddess, Ororo, had formed a relationship.

Rogue's father greeted Logan in the main hall. "Master Logan, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

Logan was never one for formality. "Listen, bub, I'm here to see Stripes. She here?"

"Yes, I'll have someone fetch her." He turned to the entrance and motioned for Piotr to bring Rogue.

Logan narrowed his gaze on her father before he spoke again. "Creed's been spreading' a rumor. I hope for your sake it's another one of his lies. Did you promise Anna to that monster?"

In a sign of respect, her father lowered his head and nodded. "He made an offer and her mother and I found it acceptable."

"I don't like it and I'm lettin' you know now I don't approve. He won't make her happy"

Rogue came down from her room and saw Logan standing in the hall. "Logan?"

"Hey, Stripes. Come down here. We need to talk." Logan looked over to her father and waved him away. "I want to talk to her alone."

Her father nodded and quietly left.

"Sit down." He pulled a chair over for her. "I know about the arrangements. Creed's been runnin' his mouth."

Rogue cupped her face in her hands and sighed. "Ah don't want this, Logan."

"I know, Stripes. You just say the word and I'll take him out."

That brought a smile to her face. "Thanks, Logan. Ah needed that, but Ah'll handle it somehow."

Logan cupped her chin and lifted her eyes to his. "Keep your chin up. I'll be around if you need me or change your mind." He winked.

"Logan, can Ah ask you a question?"

He nodded. "Sure…what is it?"

Rogue stood and looked to see if her father was listening. "Do you know anything about the battle General Creed fought in the north a few years ago?"

Logan looked surprised. "You mean when he captured the Remi tribe?"

"Was that about three years ago…when he won the triumph?"

"Yeah," Logan answered. "Why do you want to know about that battle? You're not actually interested in him, are you?"

"No! Ah…Ah just was curious." Rogue said but her voice faltered.

"I don't know much. I try not to get too involved with Creed." Logan sat down on a stone bench and thought about the stories. "Creed was awarded the triumph 'cause he captured the chieftain called 'Thunderer'. I hear the boy gave him a good fight."

Logan retold the stories that he had heard, but there were little details. Rogue couldn't help but wonder whether Remy was the chieftain that Logan described. He seemed to fit the description, but could Remy really have led an entire tribe. He seemed so young. Creed certainly didn't care for him. And what about the title 'Thunderer'?

Logan left shortly after their discussion, but promised to stop by soon enough. Rogue walked over to the window and caught sight of Remy working diligently in the back garden. When she had first seen him, she thought he was handsome. The more she learned about him, the more she was drawn to him. Rogue realized that she became foolishly happy on days when he graced her with a rare smile; and strangely empty on days when she didn't see him.

Remy was repairing the pebbled walk in the garden when he felt someone approach. When he turned around, he saw Rogue walking from the house in his direction. She took a seat on the stone bench beside him.

"Hello, Remy." She said as she straightened her tunica.

Remy continued working, but smiled. "'Ello, _chere_. What are y' doin' out here?"

Rogue smiled back. "Ah was talkin' with Logan, and he told meh some of the stories about your people. Can Ah ask you some questions?"

Remy lowered his head in assent. "Anythin' y' want t' know, jus' ask."

Rogue tilted her head to the side and studied Remy for a moment. "Have you ever heard of the 'Thunderer'?"

He froze and dropped a large stone on his fingers. "Ow!"

A warm chuckle floated over him.

"Y' find dis funny?" Remy asked, shaking his hand.

"Sorry," she whispered.

He straightened his spine and sighed. "Why do y' want t' know 'bout him?"

"Ah want to know more about where you came from, Remy. Some of the memories Ah received confuse meh."

Remy answered steadily, as if the memory didn't pain him. "He was a chieftain of our people…young and foolish. He thought he could protect them, but he couldn't."

She watched him and saw the pain behind his words. She knew that she had been right. Remy was that man. "What does the title mean?"

"He could make anyt'ing explode with a huge force or simply heat it with a touch. Dat's where de title came from, _chere_." Remy fingered the collar around his neck.

Rogue reached out and touched his shoulder, turning him towards her. "Remy…"

He saw the flame of recognition in her eyes and knew she knew the truth. "It's alright, _chere_. Remy has accepted his fate. It brought him here t' y'."

She just sat there and stared into his exotic eyes for a while. She wanted to comfort him, but knew that he wouldn't welcome that, especially from a Roman and his master's daughter. All the same, she wanted to hold him. "Do your people have stories of gods and heroes?"

"_Oui_…do y' want t' hear one?"

Rogue nodded and leaned back.

"What kind of story do y' want, _chere_…long, or short? Happy, or sad?"

She thought that over for a moment, and said, "A longer story. You choose whether it's happy or sad."

Remy began recounting one of the great love stories of his people. It was the story of a great, handsome warrior named Fraoch and his attempts to win the heart of the beautiful daughter of Mebd, Findbhair. The warrior loved her from the start, but her mother forbade the union. She was determined to destroy the young man before he could steal Findbhair away from the other suitors, so she sent him on impossible tasks. Finally, Fraoch was asked to fetch a branch from the river, but it was guarded by a powerful monster. While he swam, Findbhair admired his strength and beauty. When the monster attacked, Findbhair lept into the river with a sword and aided her warrior suitor, but he was gravely wounded. He survived thanks to the power of his mother, a goddess, and the two were wed. The story didn't end well, though. Shortly thereafter, Findbhair's mother tried to seduce her daughter's husband but he rejected her advances. For this injury, he was killed. Remy's story took an hour and when he finished with the death of the lovers, he was silent.

Rogue was also silent for a time, and looked at him with an intenseness that pierced him.

"Perhaps love is never easy, even in different worlds."

* * *

Piotr entered the villa behind the master of the house. After Logan had departed, the pair had gone into town to visit the local slave market. Rogue's father wanted to obtain a more experienced maid for his daughter now that she was promised to such a high family from Rome. Kitty would begin working in the kitchen with Wanda, while this new addition to the household took over her duties.

Iris was a beautiful woman and slightly older than the others, but still young. She had raven black hair and olive skin that glowed.

Piotr led her to her chambers and introduced her to the other servants of the house. Kitty noticed the way Iris' gaze lingered on Piotr and it made her feel uncomfortable. She wasn't the jealous type, but she was cautious.

When Piotr was told to take Iris to Rogue's chamber, she made her interest known.

She cornered him in the room and pressed herself against his chest.

Piotr calmly forced her back and reiterated the general rule forbidding relations amongst the slaves. She looked disappointed, but nodded. When he left, however, she followed.

Piotr met Kitty in their secret corner of the villa.

"I don't like her, Piotr." Kitty said with her back to him.

He walked up behind her and wrapped her in his arms, rocking her side to side in a soothing motion. "Don't let her worry you. You'll do fine in the kitchen and I'll be able to see you more often now, Katja."

When he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, Iris moved away from the wall and slipped from the room quietly.

* * *

Rogue wasn't happy with her father's decision to buy Iris and send Kitty to work in the kitchen. They had been close friends for as long as she could remember, and now she was attended by a stranger. Rogue could sense that Iris was scared of her and her gift…few weren't.

When Iris pulled another tangle too roughly, Rogue waved her away and she hurried from the room. She sighed and sat along the window seat, looking out over the countryside. Kurt waved up to her from below, and then rode off on his horse.

Rogue left her room and walked out to the stables. John and Remy were caring for the horses, brushing and rubbing them down. She seemed startled to see them at first, but continued inside.

"Good evening, Anna. How are you tonight?" John asked as he finished with one of the mares. "You just missed your brother."

"Ah know," she said and caught Remy's eye. John noticed and stepped aside to continue working on another horse across the way. "Hi, Remy."

"Anna."

Rogue petted the white mare Remy was working with and silently wished she could do so without her gloves. A tear formed in her eyes and Remy reached to wipe it away. When she flinched back, he nodded.

"Remy understands, _chere_."

"Do you?" She looked into his eyes intently. Did he really understand how she felt?

"Sometimes a master's not much more free dan a slave, _oui?_"

"You do understand. Ah feel like a bird in a cage sometimes." Rogue tugged on her gloves meaningfully. "Ah just want to…feel. Ah want to feel the freedom Kurt has, feel the sun and wind on mah face. Ah want to touch."

Remy looked thoughtful. He cast a quick glance to John and the expression on his face changed. He jumped upon the horse and held a hand out to her. "Come here," he said tilting his head to one side.

Rogue reluctantly stepped forward. He leaned over, reached down, and lifted her off her feet, so easily she was astonished. Remy set her down sideways before him.

"Put your arms around my waist, and hold on, _chere_." With that, they were off. Rogue seldom had the chance to ride horseback, and it startled her to see how high it seemed and how precarious. She seized hold of his belt, almost too late, and hung on tightly.

Remy seemed amused. For Rogue, it was a terrifying yet exhilarating experience. She hadn't been so close to him since that night she fell from the rafters. She could feel the warmth of his body, and breathe in the scent of the oils that he used in bathing. He let the horse have its head, pounding down the hillsides, at a speed that seemed dizzying.

She knew Remy was taking a serious risk, riding from the villa with her on horseback, but she couldn't help but feel thankful.

Remy reined the horse in as the crested a hill.

There are moments in life that become frozen in memory like a painting: a vivid image of everything just as it was. This was such a moment for Rogue. She looked down the slope that spread out before her; the valley was a sea of beige grasses under a multicolored sky with the sun sinking behind the horizon. "It's so beautiful."

"_Oui_…" Remy whispered and ran a hand through her hair.

When Rogue turned to look at him, she saw that he wasn't speaking of the countryside. She saw herself reflected in his eyes. She watched the fleeting rays of sunlight cut across his face. He really was a good-looking man. But it wasn't just that that she found appealing. There was something more to him. Something that was in pain and at the same time feral. It made her want to soothe him, like he did for her even without knowing. He had more strength and courage than anyone she'd ever met.

Rogue reached up and brushed his hair back from his handsome face. His eyes were still breathtaking and disturbing and they melted a foreign part of her. She wanted to kiss him, and it pained her to know that she never could.

Remy looked down to where Rogue still clung to his belt. "Y' can let go now, _chere_."

Blushing slightly, Rogue let go, but remembered something. "You never told meh what that meant…_chere_."

"It means…_carissima_."

"Dear…"

They sat there for a while in silence, enjoying the comfort given. Remy's voice deepened, little twinkles lit the darkness of his ruby eyes, and a smile formed on his lips. "Do y' have dreams?"

"Dreams?"

"_Oui_, dreams." Lifting her hand, Remy placed it on his lips and enunciated clearly, as if to communicate through touch as well as sound. "Dreams are de forms in your mind where y' dance t' de tune of what may be."

"Dreams are a waste of time," she said, sadly.

"_Non, chere_. Dreams give us hope t' change our fate." He watched her with something that looked like pity.

If she had ever dreamed a man and hoped to have him, the man she dreamed would be Remy. It was as if he had somehow ascertained everything she admired in a man and distilled it within himself.

Remy looked at her hand at rest in his. "We can always change our stars." Somehow he managed to gain possession of her other hand. Looking into her eyes, he said, "Remy's never seen a _femme_ so in need of love."

Remy encouraged her to think beyond her earliest teachings, and Roman tradition. When he leaned forward, she took a deep breath.

"Don't be afraid." His lips brushed her forehead, and his hands enclosed her arms. "Remy won't hurt y'."

She ached, she couldn't catch her breath, and all he did was pull her close, wrapping his arms around her. One of his hands massaged her neck through her hair; the other rubbed small circles on her back, comforting her. The massage made her want to turn her head and close her eyes, and with a sigh, she did.

Her hands itched to wrap around his waist. His touch set off a shudder that rattled her spine.

"Y're cold," he whispered.

"No," she whispered.

Remy pulled away and smiled. She immediately felt the absence of his heat. "We should get back before y're missed, _chere_."

She nodded, and knew he was right. He would be severely punished if they were caught, and that realization sobered her.

The ride back to the villa was in silence.

Fortunately, only John was privy to their departure. By the time they returned, Sol had given its reign of the sky over to Luna.

"G'night, _chere._ Sweet dreams." Remy lowered his head and kissed her palm, before walking back to the slave quarters with John.

Rogue stood in the night air for some time, looking at her hand with a whimsical smile on her face. Maybe tonight she would have sweet dreams after all.

* * *

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed! In the next chapter, we'll have an interesting Roman celebration where slaves become masters for a day and some preludes to a major disaster (I think y'all know what I'm referring to).


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